Speak The Words
by TheFictionDreamer
Summary: Arthur is frustrated. He is just been dumped, again. And it is all because he could never express his feelings properly. What is wrong with him? What should he do different? Feeling all alone and restless, he strolls into a gay bar and meets... an American. Too bad that he's supposedly straight. USUK. Rated T for now, but may change in future development.
1. The New Arthur

A/N: First attempt on a USUK story. Hope you guys will like it. :b

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Chapter 1.

**The New Arthur**

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"_You will be fine without me_."

The same words circled in the Englishman's head as he strolled down the cold streets, his scarf tugged securely around his neck, and covering his mouth and nose. Only his scowling green eyes and tangled blonde hair was visible and his hands dragged further into his coat as the chilly wind started to pick up.

Maybe he should have thought twice before leaving his boyfr-... ex-boyfriend's house in anger so far away from his own home on such a cold night, but he had seriously thought that he would come running after him. Although, when he thought about it, it was no wonder he wasn't pursued. Arthur had said some rather nasty words before he left. But still.

It was always the same. And he had _really_ liked this guy too, but he was always dumped for the same reasons. He knew what his problem was, he just didn't know how to fix it.

The reason was, that he didn't like to get to intimate with people and the blonde Brit had never said the words, 'I love you' to _anyone_ - who wasn't blood-related.

A lover was expected to touch the other with affection, it was … an unwritten rule. Arthur just couldn't do it, and he had no freaking idea why. He liked sex. He had liked the guy. He seriously did not know his own _bloody_ problem. But when he tried to do _it_… it just looked forced and fake.

In the beginning the other guy was always very understanding and 'don't want to force him to anything he isn't comfortable with'- and all that sweet-talk, but sooner or later the person would grow tired of the lack of physical contact in the relationship and move on. Understandable, but such a bloody pain.

The Brit had turned down a desolated alley, only the sound of faint music from a club nearby pierced the air. His eyes flared in annoyance. He would surely die alone if this dreading pattern continued. He clenched his fists. Why was he the one who should change? Just because he was dating such... such...

"_BOLLOCKS_! WHATEVER! I don't care! Being alone is just fine; I don't need a bloody _touchy_ partner! As if anyone cares anyway!" he roared out, swinging his gloved hands in fits of anger in the quiet alley, making the mist soar out of his mouth. "I don't need anyone!" Still scowling and fuming, he collapsed on a bench and closed his eyes, eyebrows still furrowed in self-loathing.

"Come on, I want to get drunk with you," a male voice said after a few moments, and Arthurs eyes peered open.

"Fine," his partner said and took his hand without hesitation. "But you know, this is a _lousy_ date."

Arthur sat up straight on the bench, letting his hands rest in his lab as he watched the couple. The gay couple. They were walking together, hand-in-hand and never breaking eye contact. And the taller one kept smiling fondly at the shorter one. Perfect example of a proper relationship, right there. Arthur scowled at their perfection.

Then his emerald eyes darted to where they were going. '_The Double M_', a gay bar. Arthur sat for a moment and looked at the flickering sign. He had never been to a gay bar before, mostly because he didn't like himself when he was drunk and also found the place too up-beat for his taste.

He sat on the bench for almost 15 minuets and weighted his options. Maybe this could be what he needed, too do something completely un-Arthur-ish. Maybe he was the one who should change and not his partners.

Finally the blonde Brit stood up from his seat. What did he have to lose? This night was already buggered. It could hardly get any worse.

So he entered. Gulped. And wanted to run out again.

The place was ponding with American pop-songs, and in the middle of it all were a few –very drunk- guys dancing on a self-invented dance floor. The walls were lit with some kind of neon light that flickered in various colors, making people's dance-moves look almost robotic.

Arthur stood in the door a little and bit his tongue. This wasn't his style at all. He liked traditional bars with a quiet atmosphere and- oh _screw_ it! He was not chickening out now! It was too late to like women again anyway.

The place was not huge, despise the many people, and Arthur had to elbow his way past a dancing pair to get to the bar. The man in the bar was definitely handsome, with long blonde hair, blue eyes, a hint of a beard and seemed to be the only one who wasn't completely drunk at this place, making him stand out a little.

"What can I get you?" he asked, with a hint of a French accent and smiled at Arthur, as the short Englishman took a seat by the bar.

"A coke please…" Arthur said flatly, but then stopped himself. He couldn't continue like this. No. The '_Old Arthur'_ would order plain coke, and the _Old Arthur_ would be afraid to touch his own boyfriend, unable to say 'I love you' and get dumped after a week. No! The _New Arthur_ was different. The _New Arthur_ went to gay bars and ordered real alcohol goddammit.

"A coke?" the French bartender questioned, surely confused of the debating glint in the Englishman's eyes.

"With rum! Rum and coke," Arthur hurried to correct, and let his fist rest on the counter, determination shining from his green orbs.

"Sure," the bartender said, a little amused by the tiny blonde's orthodox behavior.

The _New Arthur_ turned in his chair while he waited for his drink and let his eyes trail around the bar. He didn't see any good ones. And it looked like most people were already a couple.

"Here you go, _mignon_," the bartender said and placed his drink on the counter. Arthur turned in his chair, and glanced up at the French.

"Arthur," he corrected automatically and took a few bills from his wallet, and placed them on the counter. The French scooted them up and winked at Arthur before going to take another guy's order.

The Brit took the drink and slowly took a sip. There was probably more rum than coke in his drink judging by the flavor, and it made it taste quite gross in his opinion, but he managed to get some of it down regardless.

"Excuse me," a voice suddenly sounded and Arthur's eyes flickered to the voice.

"Ah! Yes?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, but could you help me out." _Hm, an American accent?_

Arthur's eyes swiftly darted over his body. The stranger did not look half bad. He was tall, blonde hair and wore glasses. He had a firm build, not that muscular, but decent. Definitely the best-looking one Arthur had seen all night, but then again, he had been drinking a bit. Regardless, this was the best opportunity he would get all night.

Therefore the _New Arthur _let his lips upward in a cool smile and chanted _stay calm_, in his head. "Yeah, what is it?"

He seemed quite young; a beginner maybe, was Arthur's impression. He walked over to sit next to Arthur. "Oh, good." He said in a relieved voice. Arthur wondered if he should order him a drink to break the nervousness, but suddenly the American did something very… unexpected.

He pulled out a _map_. "Okay, look," the boy said and pointed his finger at the map. "I need to go here, and I have no idea where I am. I think I started by the station-"

Arthur felt his pride break in half and shatter on the floor. He _stared_ at the boy, not even glancing at the map.

"-So, do you know how to get there?" the other asked and looked up from the map. He seemed totally unaware of Arthur's stunned dead-glare and just smiled back kindly.

Arthur let out an audible sigh and let his head drop onto his arms on the counter. Well, if he had thought this day couldn't get any worse, he had underestimated himself. This guy was obviously straight, and had somehow wandered to a place he shouldn't have. Arthur felt like smashing something. He was obviously _straight_. Had he honestly been checking out a straight guy like that? Bollocks.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" the American asked and put a comforting hand on his back. He winced and mumbled a few curses under his breath, before straightening up. His usual frown placed back on his face, and the _Old Arthur_ stepping out to save his pride.

"I'm fine, git. Let me ask you something," he said, and the American looked at him with a nod. "Do you know where you are?"

He thought about it. "A bar?"

"Yeah, what kind?" Arthur urged him on with a flat glance.

The American shrugged. "Is it a special bar? I just moved here recently to study, so I don't know this area very well." He sent the Brit a slight smile, but Arthur didn't return it. Was this guy an idiot?

"Look around you," he said and made a small gesture with his head.

The American obeyed and turned his head around. At first he seemed oblivious to what he was looking for, but soon his gaze settled on a pair of guys making out rather obviously in a couch and his eyes twisted in realization. A small "oh", escaped his lips.

Arthur sighed again and took another sip of his nasty drink. "There. You see, it is a bar for that kind of folk." He hoped he had scared him off, but for some reason the American stayed put.

"I see," he just said, and Arthur was getting pretty pissed with him already.

"Yes, well, if you do not want some guy forcing himself on you, you should leave, and not come here anymore. Ask someone else for directions and go home," he said and waved him toward the door, rather dismissingly. He didn't go home though.

He glanced at Arthur with an unreadable expression. "Does that mean, you're that way?"

"What? Gay?" Arthur asked and frowned in anger. "You got a problem with it?" This day could not get any worse. Normally Arthur would be quite good at manners and proper language, but this whole day was pissing him off. This bar was pissing him off. The nasty drink was pissing him off. And this strange American was _pissing_. Him. Off!

But the American hurried to shake his head and hold up a reassuring hand. "No no. I don't. Not at all, dude."

"It's _Arthur_!" he found himself sneering, immediately regretting the action as the blonde smiled at him.

"Cool. I'm Alfred."

Great, now he knew his name. Now Arthur was not just an angry drunk guy that Alfred had met at a gay bar, he was a person. He was Arthur, the pissed English-man. And Alfred was no longer 'The nosy American'. He was now a sweet straight guy named Alfred, who made Arthur feel like _shit_ about himself and his own attitude.

It had been a mistake to come here. He was done.

"I need to leave," Arthur said and with swaying movements got out of his chair. He did not know if it was the alcohol or embarrassment that made him sway, maybe a combination of both.

"You're goin' home?" Alfred asked and to Arthur's horror he stood up from his seat and followed him out.

"Yes," he scowled.

"I don't know a lot of people here, so it's nice meeting ya," he told and paced along Arthur. "Where do you live?"

"Close by," he mumbled and tugged his scarf around his neck again, strolling out of the bar, with the taller blonde right behind him. He remembered not to hold the door on his way out, but Alfred seemed uncaring and caught the door easily.

"Good, then you know how to get to-"

"I don't know how to get to anywhere!" Arthur snapped as Alfred pulled out his _stupid_ map again. "Just leave me alone!" he said and swung his arms around, and clumsily stumbled onto the street.

"Wah!"

A loud honk made him gasp in shock, and immediately a large hand grabbed around his collar and yanked him away from the road. The map in Alfred's hand had been caught by the wind as he reached for Arthur and has whooshed out on the street and was instantly smashed under a tire, lying utterly still and ruined on the dark road. Arthur clung to his savior in shock, while the vehicle drove by with loud blares. "Watch out punks!" a man yelled at them.

Arthur's hand was clinging tightly to Alfred's jacket, but when the American spoke he instantaneously snapped out of it. "I think we should call a cab for you." Alfred said kindly, but Arthur just huffed and broke free of their awkward embrace.

"I _told_ you I live close by."

"Then I'll walk you there."

"But-"

"I'm not letting your drunk self get killed on my watch," he told him and Arthur let out a demonstrative groan, but decided that if this weird guy would follow him home, so be it, but he wouldn't be happy about it.

"Fine!" Arthur scoffed and dug his hands deeply into his pockets.

"Cool," Alfred said and paced up beside Arthur again with a smile, as if there had never just been a near-dead-exsperince. The Brit almost felt bad, this guy had saved his life after all. Maybe he should thank him.

"Hey Arthur?"

He looked up, his scarf dropping a little. "Yes?"

"I lost my map."

"Oh…"

"Can I sleep at your place?"

"No."

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A/N: That ends chapter one. I haven't written in a while, so might be out of practice, but please tell me what you think. Reviews make my day.

The next chapter will not be so plain and stuff will actually happen. This one was mostly to get you into Arthur's situation with relationships, and how he met our favorite bubbly American. :) Arthur do have some more issues that he's struggling with, which you will find out in the next chapter.

Hope you like and please review. :D


	2. The Friendly American Stalker

A/N: Thank you SOOO much for all the lovely reviews! I love you guys! :D

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Chapter 2.

**The Friendly American Stalker**

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"You met a guy at a gay bar?"

"M-hmm," Alfred said, refusing to let the straw out of his mouth to give a proper agreement. Matthew tried to ignore the slurping sounds of coke and continued.

"And you saved his life."

"M-hmm."

"And now you want to find him again?"

"M-hmm."

"Why?"

Finally Alfred let the straw drop from his mouth to give a proper answer. The two friends had gone out to eat in celebration of Alfred's new apartment. Matthew had wanted to go to a proper restaurant, but instead they were now sitting in a crappy fast-food place, because that was - and will always be, Alfred's favorite place. The American was already done with his fried meal, but Matthew was still wrestling through his last cheeseburger.

The Canadian blonde held his burger halfway to his mouth, while waiting for Alfred to respond.

"I like him... although he speaks strangely," was his simple answer as he stole a fench-fry from Matthew's share.

"You're in love with a _guy_?" Matthew asked him, and took a bite of his burger, peeking at his friend curiously. There wasn't the slightest judgment in his voice, since he had known he liked guys for quite some time already, but Alfred seemed to wince a little by the statement.

"I'm not _in love _with him," Alfred denied and put some over-fried potatoes in his mouth. "I just think he seemed like a cool guy and he obviously have problems that he needs help with."

"A-ha," Matthew said skeptical with a slight grin. "And now you want to be his hero?"

"Shut up, Mattie," Alfred snapped without true malice.

"Alright, fine," Matthew said, the smile hadn't left his face. He took another bite of his burger. "What's his name?"

"Arthur."

"How are you going to find him?"

"Well… I know where he lives…"

Matthew stared at him, and placed his burger back on the table.

"What?" The American exclaimed.

"That's creepy, Alfred," Matthew deadpanned.

"I'm _not_ going to _stalk_ him at his house!" Alfred defended himself, and threw a french-fry at his friend. "Are you calling me a creeper or somethin'?"

"I didn't _say_ it."

"Maaattie!" Alfred whined and leaned back in his chair. "I just want to talk to 'im again. Not have s-"

"Okay okay! I get it!" Matthew hurried to interrupt, trying to save himself from a horrible mental image. "You don't like him at all, understood," Matthew said with a slight smile and finished his food. Alfred ignored his comment and stood up.

"Let's just go, this place is getting crammed," The American mumbled and Matthew hurried to lick his fingers of ketchup and followed him outside. The fresh air seemed refreshing to Matthew after the stuffy little fast-food restaurant and he took a deep inhale as they stepped out. His hands rested firmly in the front pocket of his red hoodie with a maple leaf on the front.

Matthew had found it quite hard to start a life in the city. He had had a hard time standing out among so many people, mostly because he rarely spoke up. He knew that they probably didn't intend to ignore him, his voice just wasn't loud enough to reach them. But somehow, it had changed a little lately. He was still mostly ignored. But now he had met Alfred, and for some reason the overly loud American also knew how to be quiet and listen when he spoke, and because of that, Matthew had found the life to be a little more manageable He had even quitted his worst habit, stuttering. Around Alfred at least.

Matthew looked over at his friend, a smile gracing his lips. Although, Alfred was quite awkward and loud at times too. As if Alfred had heard his thoughts, he turned his head, looking at him in question behind the blank glasses.

"What?"

"Nothing. Are we going back to your place?" Matthew questioned as the pair walked down the busy street.

"Yes, unless you have somewhere better to… go…" Alfred suddenly halted to a stop.

Matthew looked surprised and followed his gaze, his smile morphing into confusion. "What is it?" he asked and his eyes landed on the building across the street. "The café? Do you want some coff-_eeh_!" he exclaimed when Alfred pulled him rather hastily closer and pointed wildly.

"That's him, that's Arthur!" he verbalized and pointed toward the place with energetic movements. Matthew untangles his fingers from his hoodie, before he turned to look inside the diner. He tilted his head slightly. Alfred was loudly yelling at him not to look so obviously, but Matthew brushed him off.

"Is that him?" he asked and pointed toward a window that viewed the café rather well. Alfred nodded.

Inside, standing rather moodily behind the counter was a short blonde boy. He was wearing a red apron with the café's name '_The English Breakfast_' written in curly letters over his sweater vest. He was vacantly clicking a order in on the cash register, not even glancing at the costumer while he did it so. Only when he had gotten the total amount he lifted his eyes to ask for payment. He had really pretty green eyes, Matthew noted. A little over-sized eyebrows though.

Matthew was slightly surprised since he had thought that Alfred's type would be someone a little more... hyper and overly happy. More like Alfred. This person, judged on appearance and actions of course, looked like the total opposite of his best friend.

Well, who was he to judge on Alfred's crushes? Matthew shrugged. "Alright, see you later then."

Alfred hissed. "What do you mean 'see you later'? You're going in there with me."

"No, I'm not," Matthew said matter-of-factly and started strolling down the street, only to be caught by the hoodie and dragged back.

"Why?"

Matthew lifted an eyebrow and looked up at his friend. "Since when have you been afraid to approach people?" he waved Alfred's hands off him. "You'll be fine." he gave him a reassuring smile.

"Mattie!" Alfred called after him, but the Canadian had already continued his unconcerned walk down the street, a satisfied smile resting on his lips.

-usuk-

Arthur _hated_ this job.

Officially speaking he was hired as a waiter, but he just didn't have the patience or cheeky personality to take orders from a cheerful little apple-pie family, with everything going on. He just didn't have the temperament. The other day he had been taking orders for a small Italian family with this very hyper kid.

He had taken the whole family's order and lastly turned to the auburn boy, who had a rather strange strand of hair standing out on the side of his head, Arthur noted.

"What would you like to order?" Arthur had questioned, forcing a polite smile. He was already fed up from previous table's and just wanted to get this over with.

"_Pasta_!" the boy had announced, rather loudly too.

"We don't have pasta on the menu," Arthur had mumbled back, his smile cracking slightly, his pencil touching the notepad lightly, ready to take another order, but the Italian's eyes only seemed to soften in disappointment.

"Aww.." he had responded. Arthur had stood for almost three minuets, as the Italian looked through the menu once more. His temper building up slowly. Especially because the whole family didn't say a word about it.

"Eh.." The boy continued, letting his finger run down the menu.

"So, what would you like?" he had finally snapped.

"Um.." he had stretched the word and tilted his head to the side. Arthur's hands clenched around the notepad.

"What would you _bloody_ like to order!" Arthur now yelled. Both the family and the Italian kid looked up stunned. The kid almost like he was going to cry. Luckily one of the other waiters took over for Arthur, and the fuming English-man gave a quick apology before walking off.

So he had instead been pointed to stand by the desk and receive payment, which were supposedly the most boring job they had according to other employees, but it suited Arthur just fine. First of all, he didn't have to force smiles. And secondly, he had a secret contest with himself to do the math and hand back the change before the machine could calculate the amount.

"That will be 23,72," he mumbled flatly and the lady pulled two twenties out.

_Great thanks. _He thought bitterly as he took the two bills and gave her the change quickly, barely making it in time.

"Thank you," the lady responded flatly. Arthur gave her a polite nod, before resetting the machine.

"Hey Arthur. I see that you still do your math faster than the machine," a calm voice said. Arthur's eyes rose and his familiar frown actually turned in a smile upon seeing the person in front of him.

"_Kiku_, it has been ages," Arthur said and straightened in his chair, flattening his apron. The Japanese smiled his signature small smile and nodded in agreement.

"Saw you from the street, and thought I would say hallo," Kiku told him and Arthur smiled, there was always something calming about the way the Asian boy spoke to him, maybe it was the accent. He had missed it.

"I'm glad you did, how are you doing?"

"Good. Finished university this year and got a job not far from here," he informed and Arthur nodded with a hesitant smile. Kiku was a few years older than him, Arthur had never really taken note of it before, but suddenly the other boy seemed so much more mature. It had been almost 2 years since Arthur had seen him, but fortunately he looked -and spoke- exactly the same.

They had gone to high school together, but Kiku had graduated much before him. They had managed to hold contact for quite a while, but a lot of events had happened and the two friends had been temporarily separated, until _now_ it seemed.

"What about you, Arthur?"

"Oh, no. I didn't enroll anywhere," he told him shortly, and was happy that there were no other guests behind Kiku at the moment. He could use a break anyway.

"Still having problems?" Kiku asked, he made the question sound so innocent and plain, as if he had asked about the weather, or if Arthur had gone to the convenience store lately.

"I suppose," he answered, letting his eyes drop.

Kiku sighed and gave him a friendly smile. "You know, you still have my number."

"Yeah, I know." he smiled.

"How was it going with... um, what was his name."

Arthur shook his head. "No no, that's long over," he mumbled, not mentioning that he had had way more relationships since his french high school crush.

"Oh well, you look like you're holding up good," Kiku said.

"Yes," Arthur answered and gave him a tired smile. "Thank you. You know..."

"Hey Arthur!" A sudden light voice interrupted him, and a firm hand touched his shoulder to get his attention. He lifted his eyes to one of the waitresses. She was always smiling and quite beautiful, although timid. She was also the one that had saved him from the Italian kid once upon a time. She was one of the few waitresses he tolerated at this place... however, she had chosen a bad time.

"What is it, Michelle?" he asked, unhappy that he had been disturbed doing his reunion. The brunette seemed oblivious, or uncaring, to his glare. She gave him a teasing smile and pointed toward one of the tables. Arthur looked utterly confused and followed her finger in question.

He made a face. "Bloody hell."

"He only want to be served by you," Michelle said with a sweet smile, but obviously thinking her own thoughts. Arthur cursed, making Kiku turn his head curiously.

In one of the café chairs, by a lone table, sat _Alfred_, the American from the other night. He was wearing a brown bomber jacket and leaning casually back in his chair. Somehow he seemed even more handsome in dayli—no no, Arthur refused to think like that. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

He looked at Michelle. "Tell him that I am occupied."

"No no," Kiku hurried to cut in and shook his hands. "It's fine, I was just leaving anyway."

"You do _not_ have to do that," Arthur told him, but the hint in the Brit's voice seemed to go right across Kiku's head and he took a step away.

"It's really fine, Arthur," he smiled. "Please give me a call sometime."

"I will," Arthur said quietly, feeling a little betrayed by his calm friend. Michelle eyed him curiously, but he just shot her a lazer-beam-glare, before he grabbed the little notepad that he hadn't used in ages to take the order. Arthur angrily walked over to the window where the blonde American had placed himself with his menu. Alfred looked up, and when he saw Arthur his eyes lit slightly and he placed the menu down on the table.

"Arth-"

"Hello, my name is Arthur, I will be your waiter today," he chanted as he had been taught, obviously astonishing Alfred greatly. Arthur didn't even look at the other as he scribbling his table number down on the notepad before he continued, "What would you like to order? Want to start with your drink?"

"Um…" Alfred said a little bewildered and looked back into his menu. "Actually I just ate," he admitted with a shrug. Arthur felt his eyebrow knit, but managed to hold back a snappy comment. "But I'll have a coke."

"Small, medium or large."

"Large, please."

"Sure, I will be right back with that," Arthur mumbled and scribbled a quick 'L C' on his notepad, before walking away again. He purposely forgot the line '_please as if you need anything_'. He took a deep breath, he had managed to survive the meeting with The straight American and after a little while he had given the American his coke and bailed.

"Thank you," Alfred simply said and Arthur dismissed himself quickly. The Brit hurried back to his station, and with a sigh of relief he continued where he left off. His green eyes trailed to Alfred's table a single time, and caught the American looking at him.

He might have imagined it, but it seemed like Alfred took an awful long time with his coke.

-usuk-

The next morning Alfred was at the café again, doing his shift.

"You're here again?" Arthur snapped, standing by his table with a frown, because Michelle had informed him once again that Alfred only would be serviced by Arthur and it was annoying the socks off of him.

"I want to talk with you."

"For your information and obvious unawareness. I am _working_," Arthur snapped at him.

"I won't leave until you talk to me."

"This is a place for eating, not talking," Arthur sighed and pointed at the notepad.

"I'm serious, I won't leave until you talk to me."

"That's a lie."

"A hero never lies."

"A _what_?"

"Hero."

Arthur sighed and flipped a page over on his notepad. "Just order something!"

"Fine, I'll take a coke," the American smiled at him. Arthur huffed and walked off.

Eventually Arthur wasn't even surprised when the blonde American showed up at his shifts. He always ordered the same thing. A coke and occasionally food too, but he had complained to Arthur on the second day that the food 'sucked' and Arthur had swiped him upside the head with a menu.

"This is the finest English cuisine," he had scolded.

"Then I don't want to taste the worst."

_Swipe_!

But regardless, Arthur had started to tolerate the American at work, mostly because he did not have to talk to him a whole lot, and could simply ignore him when he stared at him from across the room.

What Arthur had certainly not anticipated was the fourth day at noon, where Arthur's shift ended. He walked out, having hung his red apron away and replaced it with his beloved grey jacket to see ... Alfred standing outside the café, leaning against a mailbox.

Arthur halted to a stop, but then decided that he wasn't even going to comment and started walking down the street. That's when Alfred noticed him and hurried to pace after him.

"Hey Arthur, wait up," he called. "I almost didn't recognize you without your apron."

Arthur felt a vein pop in his head. "Why are you following me?"

"I remembered that you said you couldn't talk because of work," he smiled brightly and Arthur looked away. "Well, you're not at work anymore, so I thought we could talk."

Arthur sighed deeply. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to get some real food for once?" he asked innocently. Arthur had to restain himself from not scolding the American for his criticizing of English food, but decided to let it go and tugged his hands deeper into his pockets.

"That's your important talk that you have been pestering me at work about?" he questioned, glancing up at the American, only to avert his eyes when he realized the American was looking right at him.

"Yeah, I mean, why not?"

"I think I will pass."

"What? You have somewhere better to go?"

The question startled him, because he really didn't. His walk halted to a stop, and Alfred matched him, looking like a large question-mark. The Brit looked at his feet.

"Alright…" he mumbled. "I suppose I could accompany you."

"Awesome," Alfred responded and Arthur let out a sound of shock when the American took a hold of his arm and started dragging him down the street. "I have the perfect food for us to eat. You will love it, after all that horrible English food. I mean, who eats Kidney Pie anyway?"

"What do you think you're doing, git!" he exclaimed, but no true anger was hid in his voice this time. Actually the American's optimism amused him slightly. Wait _no_!

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, the reason I'm making 2 chapters in a row is because I'm going out of town for a week or so, but then the chapters will be back, I promise. :) Sorry if it's a little rushed, my parents are practically dragging me away while I type this. xD

Oh, and I probably have to clear something up. I have NOT tried to copy some other manga, as someone asked me. I don't know what manga there is talked about, but my little sister made the summary for me, and asked me to write a story based on it. I don't know if she took it from somewhere, I will definitely confront her 'bout that. But yeah, thanks for making me aware anyway. :D

Once again thank you for the awesome reviews, you guys! :D

Hope you liked and please review! :D


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